


Elision

by Teruck (AteruMorkov)



Category: K-pop, NU'EST
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Gen, Light Angst, Time Travel, Truck-kun, additional tags as story goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteruMorkov/pseuds/Teruck
Summary: It's 2042 and Nu'est has already disbanded. All the members have gone their separate ways-- some are happily married or living their dream. Meanwhile, Dongho spends his 47th birthday alone, wishing that he can go back to the old days where he was still Baekho, performing and having fun together with his friends.He goes for a walk one early morning and his wish is suddenly granted.





	Elision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BeautifulSolo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulSolo/gifts).



Faint sounds of rhythmic beats scatter through the air from a pair of worn out headphones. A man sits in front of his computer, completely engrossed in a song he is working on.

 

_'Alright, I just have to make a few adjustments to the BPM, then move the beat drop a bit right about he--'_

"What are these?!" A stack of papers get slammed onto Dongho's keyboard suddenly. "Are all these written for your _woman_ again?" His wife leers at him, crossing her arms over her chest with a glare.

 

He is momentarily stunned by the sudden outburst, his brain not quite adjusting from the bass track he was working on. He blinks a few times and rubs his forehead tiredly. _'Not again...'_ He carefully looks her in the eye.

"I already told you it's lyrics for the new songs I'm making. I have to make different ones for different groups..." He sighs out, trying to explain to his wife for the nth time that he does _not_  have a mistress. He takes the papers in his hands to put them inside the drawer when his wife furiously swipes at them, making them all flutter to the ground.

"I'm so _sick_ of this, Dongho! I can't stand this anymore," she says through gritted teeth, holding back from screaming. "I can't live with a man who I _know_ is seeing someone else and _acting like he isn't_." There's a moment of tense silence, and she storms out of their bedroom indignantly before Dongho can even reply with "but I really am not seeing anyone." 

 

Dongho is tired. This kind of thing has already happened, what, maybe 6 times? His wife keeps suspecting him of infidelity because he keeps writing sweet nothings-- passionate,  sugary, yet empty lyrics that's meant for young, lively idols. She has threatened to divorce him a few times before, and he always tries to tell her that he doesn't want have anyone else. He gets a week-long silent treatment after their arguments, and he's gotten exhausted to the point where he doesn't really try to appease her much. They do get along for a few months afterwards, until the cycle inevitably repeats itself.

Dongho sometimes wishes she'd go through with that divorce if it meant all of this stopped. Sometimes, he even regrets...

He shakes his head. He does love her, he truly does. But for the fifteen years they've been together, she has slowly become his biggest source of grief, instead of being his eternal fountain of happiness. They'd promised that to each other during their wedding vows, so much hope and love and naiveté, and it just hurts to think about. If only they didn't get married so early. If only he could turn back time...

 

He stands up and slowly starts picking up all the paper scattered on ground. He holds them carefully, making sure to straighten out all the creases before storing them inside one of his hidden drawers, and carefully hiding its key.

He really can't blame her for thinking the way she does. Whenever he writes his songs-- penned words that should mean nothing to him-- the feelings that he deliberately kept hidden away just keeps seeping into the lyrics, and no amount of excuses can help him deny. His wife has always been kind of right.

"What should I do?" He asks the drawer dismally, as if expecting it to open and give him the magic answer; as if expecting it to open and make the person he's dedicated his lyrics to, the source of all his tragic longing just jump out of the goddamn drawer and give the solution to all his stupid problems.

 

"C'mon Minhyun, you were always the smart one of the group! Tell me what I'm supposed to do." He whips around, facing the rest of the bedroom. "How do I fix this?!" he shouts, gesturing at the door his wife stormed through. He takes a deep, angry breath and slumps back down onto his chair. He spins it back around to continue his work, but he feels empty. He groans, rubbing his face in frustration. He looks at the clock; 9:14 am. He hears the front door slam closed and the garage door open shortly after, his wife's car then humming to life and driving away from the house.

 

He doesn't expect her to come back for a few days.

 

* * *

 

A week passes by and Dongho's wife still hasn't returned. The only thing putting him at ease is the message she left on the refrigerator door before she left, saying  _"I'm going to my parents' place. Don't contact them or me."_ with the dot looking a little severe.

 

"I really did it this time, huh?" he jovially asks the whirring coffee machine, staring a hole through it. This is the 4th sleepless night in a row, and he's trying hard to meet all the deadlines, while also having no motivation to work at all. Fantastic. He's already gotten a total of 6 exasperated phone calls from his work partner and all he could say was "I'll have it done by the end of the week, I promise." It was already Saturday morning and he's only half-way done. 

In a bout of desperation, he does something he hasn't done in the last 10 years. As a last-ditch attempt to get some sort of inspiration, Dongho listens to Nu'est's songs.

 

It does the job, like a miracle, in fact. Suddenly, it feels like he was young again.

 

He was Baekho, always trying to prove to the world that Nu'est is amazing and worthy of love and support with their great songs; songs he and his friends lovingly and restlessly wrote. Dongho closes his eyes and his mind is filled with vibrant images of their past-- he still remembers the feeling of nervousness and excitement coursing through his veins right before their every comeback. He felt like 25 again, with Nu'est's promotions going strong and their popularity at an all time high.

He even remembers what it felt like back in their shared apartment, with all the background noises emanating from every room. There's Minki playing around with Lucky, Jonghyun's keyboard clacking away while he plays his games, Aron tinkering around the kitchen, and Minhyun; always nagging, cleaning, annoying, humming, reading, handsome Minhyun.

 

Feeling invigorated, Dongho goes back to his computer and resolutely puts on his headphones. Excitedly bopping his head along to the musical ideas in his mind, he composes the remaining 4 tracks with blazing speed; the melody and lyrics just easily spilling out of his imagination.  _'These might be the best works I have done in the past 5 years'_  he thinks proudly, occasionally grinning from ear to ear while adjusting values and fine-tuning his creations.

 

 

He submits everything by Sunday morning, slightly shaking out of excitement or starvation, he isn't sure. He orders a hefty brunch as congratulations to himself, beaming at the other person on the line in his accomplishment. As soon as the food arrives and he finishes eating it all, the consequence of sleep deprivation and caffeine dependence hits him like a truck. By 3 pm he's just about to pass out, but not before the doorbell rings. He stumbles towards the door and opens it to find his beautiful wife standing there, holding out a folder to him with a stoic face. His heart jumps, his fatigue momentarily forgotten.

 

Before he could say anything though, she shoves the folder onto his chest. "Here are our divorce papers. Read through them," she announces bluntly. "We have a hearing on Wednesday." She turns around and halts, seemingly debating with herself.

 

 _'Divorce?'_ Dongho's stands there, stupefied.  _'Now...?'_

 

"Wh--" He tries to react but he quickly gets cut off by his wife. "Goodbye, Dongho." She declares before promptly walking back to her car, her mind all made up. She drives off with Dongho still standing and staring at her direction from the doorway, loosely clutching onto the folder burning a painful hole through his chest.

 

  
He turns around when her car finally disappears from his blurry sight, staring at the floor for a moment and quietly shutting the door behind him. He lethargically drags his exhausted legs to their room and places the folder on the bedside table, collapsing onto the bed afterwards. His bed. It was his bed now. In his room. In his big house. Everything in here is his now, all his alone.

 

Dongho closes his eyes, welcoming the darkness that devours this terrible nightmare.

 

* * *

   
He jolts awake the next day. The room is enveloped in a cold darkness as the morning sun is yet to rise. He feels like shit and his eyes are sore as hell, but he doesn't feel like resting any longer. He tiredly gets up and pads to the bathroom, trying to fix his sallow appearance before stepping out of their house to get some fresh air. ' _I must have fallen asleep when I got home and had that awful dream... Sunday can't already be over_ _.'_   He mulls to himself, wearily looking down at the pavement.

 

He wishes he was back to simpler times. When he was just Baekho, a vocalist with nothing else to worry about other than performing and making music, fooling around and playing pranks on his friends, choosing the food they'll order for a whole week, planning his nightly excursions with Minhyun that he misses _so damn much_...

But here he is now, a boring old man worrying about overdue house bills, an achy back, inevitable balding, the possibility of never having kids. Dying alone. 

 

Last night had to be a dream. The more he walked down the street, the more he thinks of his impending fate, the dreadful reality of his future dawning on him. He felt like he was in a hole, with nowhere to go other than down. Maybe he was just overthinking. He scoffs mirthlessly and raises his head, glancing around the chilly, familiar street, when he suddenly stops in his tracks, eyes widening in horror at the sign in front of him.

 

_'BIG SALE!! TODAY FOR ONE DAY ONLY!! Fresh Fish and Vegetables, all Produce up to 50% OFF!! Monday - July 21'_

 

July 21. It's his birthday today. How fucking incredible.He woke up feeling like shit, still exhausted, with all these people milling about excitedly while he's just standing herefucking _wifeless_  and he's a grown ass man  _crying in the middle of a goddamn wet market so early in the goddamn MORNING_ \-- _Happy FUCKING 47th birthday, Kang Dongho--_

 

There's a loud crash from behind him. There's suddenly so much noise everywhere-- there's people screaming and running, scrambling to get away from something-- and there's men and women desperately yelling at his direction to get out of the way. There's a blaring noise behind him and all the hairs on his neck stand on end, shaking him to the core, drowning out all the other noise. Frozen on the spot, he vacantly stares at the old lady screaming in terror at him in her little vegetable shop, before everything goes black.

**Author's Note:**

> I have exposed myself, I apologize for leading everyone on. Anyways, meet truck-kun!
> 
> Leave comments and kudos if you liked it and rage at me on @AteruMorkov on twitter if this was a terrible idea. 
> 
> Beta'd, towed, and overhauled by someone with nice fingers.


End file.
